Paddington

 

For her Platinum Jubilee celebrations, Queen Elizabeth II made a short film of her inviting Paddington Bear to afternoon tea. When she died, social media was flooded with pictures of Paddington taking her hand and leading her from this world to the next. Of course, she had also jumped out of a helicopter with 007, and, given the ending to the latest film in the franchise, it could be argued that James Bond would have been a better escort.

Today my wife showed me a picture circulating online of Paddington escorting Coolio from this world to the next, with the comment—my wife’s, not a caption on the image—'Why? Who has decided that Paddington should be the Grim Reaper?’

Perhaps it is because Paddington is a refugee, a bear who sought and found welcome in a new land. Perhaps this makes him a suitable guide to whatever lies beyond death.

Coolio came to public attention in the UK for his rap hit Gangsta’s Paradise, which riffs off (Stevie Wonder’s Pastime Paradise, but also) Psalm 23. The lyrics open, ‘As I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death,’ introducing the story of a gang member who is feared by his rivals and looked up to by the other members of his gang but who is secretly afraid, noting, ‘I’m 23 now but will I live to see 24?’

Death is the great unknown, and, in my experience at least, a majority of people do not believe it to be an end to personal existence. But, in my experience, many people are fearful for what lies beyond. Not that they fear hell, or assume heaven, but that they envisage a journey that continues through further tribulations and for which they must plead God to keep their loved ones safe. In many ways, the northeast is the most Mediaeval context I have ministered in, and it is fascinating for that. Our cultural expectations are thickly woven.

The valley of the shadow of death runs through the heart of Psalm 23, a dry wadi the sheep journey up and down again many times over the course of their lives, just as we navigate the contours of bereavement many times over, rendered different each time by the flash flood of another loss. And the singer sings of the Good Shepherd, who carries, and knows how to use, a rod and a staff. One is long and thin, and used to steer the sheep along the path or lift them up when they fall. The other is a stout cudgel, used to drive back predators that hide among the rocks. This is a show of confidence, of leadership and of selfless strength.

As divine revelation of the mortal heart, the Bible speaks of death and what lies beyond in so many different ways that the only reasonable response of faith is an agnosticism about details and an unshakeable trust that within the reign of God in and through Christ Jesus, all shall be well. The Good Shepherd of Psalm 23 is a pool of hope that runs deep and does not fail.

Paddington is a heart-warming story. But there is no need to ask him to take on more than a small bear can, well, bear. If you would like to talk about your hopes and fears to do with death, I’m happy to have that conversation.